


One Shots

by ChunkMonk



Category: Armie Hammer - Fandom, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Timothée Chalamet - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, RPF, Romance, Schmoop, Sexual Tension, and fluff, but mostly schmoop, ficlets from my tumblr, no rhyme or reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-30 00:24:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16754323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChunkMonk/pseuds/ChunkMonk
Summary: Ficlets I wrote that are now reposted from my tumblr. Each chapter is a different story.





	1. I Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Things need to be said.

The static crackled over the line—-Timmy had said the reception was shit over outside of Budapest—but the exhalation of breath came across as clear as a bell. It wasn’t the response he had expected, or wanted, and instantly he stiffened. A sigh…..what the hell did that mean exactly? 

Had he just made the biggest mistake? Fucked up the most important friendship in his life?

“Timmy?” He tested after a moment of uncomfortable silence that threatened to stretch on forever. 

“I’m here.” 

Great. At least he hadn’t dropped the phone and ran off screaming. Armie could work with this. He’d handled worse (if you can call being stabbed in the middle of sex as worse, which in this moment, felt like sort of a tie).

“It’s just that,” Timmy said before Armie could get anything out. Before he could explain or backtrack or flat out lie that the words that had come out of his mouth didn’t mean what they so obviously did. “What you…erm….what you just…..said…..I uhhh……what exactly did you mean by that?”

There was an audible gulp from Timmy’s end and Armie felt his lips curl into a smile. He sounded so…small. So unsure. But there was also a note of hope there buried underneath the nervous stammering. This was not the voice of someone who was ready to hand out a gentle let down…

This was the voice of someone who didn’t want to be let down themselves. 

“If you need me to explain away what I just said then maybe you’re not as smart as everyone says.” Armie teased. There was another exhalation of breath and Armie knew that he couldn’t leave it hanging this time, he had to plow forward. “Tim you have to know how much…you have to know how much I love you….am in love with you.”

Another exhalation. Armie could feel the smile behind it this time though. 

“I knew…” Timmy said, his voice quiet. “I just didn’t think you knew.”

The words hit Armie like a swift jab to the gut. All this time Timmy thought….thought he was oblivious to his own heart? In denial?

“I knew.” Armie choked out, trying the best not to let his emotions get the better of him. “I knew it for a long time. I knew it from the first moment I laid eyes on you….”

“Same.”

Armie let out a belly laugh. “Same? I spill my guys here Chalamet and all you can say is “same”? “

“Yup.”

“See this is why I love you.”

Another exhalation. “I love you too.”


	2. Variety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How did Timmy react to reading Armie's letter in Variety?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would gladly post more of these today but uploading keeps fucking up and telling me it doesn't exist or got deleted as soon as I try and upload anything so. Here's hoping this goes through.

“Well I’m glad you liked it, I’m just frustrated at the things I wasn’t able to say is all…” Armie sighed and grew quiet over the other line.

“What things?”

“You know what things…”

Timmy laughed at the call back. He did in fact know “what things” but he still wanted to hear Armie say them. “Well maybe you can tell me now what you couldn’t tell the reporter?”

“Oh…well…”

Timmy can practically feel the blush of Armie’s cheeks from thousands of miles away. Such a shy soft man he was. 

They had decided to actually talk this time, since Timmy had been ugly crying after reading the article and thought he looked like shit, and also he was terrible at navigating the busy streets while face timing. That was one skill that Armie has mastered in his short time living in New York that Timmy had not, despite being born and raised. 

That as well as accidentally stumbling on to street fairs. That was a talent all Armie’s own. 

“Hmmm let’s see…” Armie teased, and Timmy heard him move around. Their was the rustle of sheets and a sigh. “Well I couldn’t possibly have told Variety how I love the way your lips taste, how soft your curls feel when I run my fingers through them. And I certainly couldn’t tell them all about the little noises you make when I…..”

“Armie!” Timmy laughed as if he was scandalized and came to a stop outside the large brick building which was his final destination of the morning. Another interview with…god he couldn’t even remember. He really didn’t want to end the call though. 

“What? You asked buddy.” Armie giggled, something soft and naughty. 

“I know it’s just…it’s been too long since we’ve been together and I’m about to go in to do an interview and I can’t walk in there all…”

“All?”

“Aroused” 

“Mmm really? Well it’s a good thing I didn’t tell Variety about how I love when you let me tie your wrists behind your back and then let me…”

“ARMIE!!”


	3. Check Instagram Now!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do the boys publicists do when they see their little TIFF shenanigans?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little ficlet dealing with the flirty insta videos they posted while they were together at TIFF, and brought on by the idea that Armie's publicist and Timmy's actually started their own company together. Yepppp. That's a real thing. Anyways, kinda cracky but all in good fun

Evelyn had just kicked off her heels and fallen face first into the downy softness of the hotel comforter when her phone—which had been cast aside as soon as she’d walked in the door and collapsed—began to chirp again, loud and insistent. 

“Uhgh what do you waaaant.” She groaned, her hand struggling to reach it without having to move from where she’d landed, face smooshed and hair askew. It had been a long ass day, and she’d specifically instructed no one to bother her unless it was a life or death emergency. 

Like threat of nuclear war or one of her clients sex tapes had leaked. Otherwise—kindly fuck off thanks.

When her fingers finally made contact with her phone, and she’d managed to flip it over, all she could see was a string of text notifications filling her screen.

Instantly she popped upright, her whole body switching into “publicist mode” and she swiped to unlock it and see what special kind of hell she was in for. 

What she was in for was capslock. Lots of it. And an alarming abuse of exclamation points.

“Please don’t be a sex tape” she mumbled, pushing her hair behind her ears as she scanned though the onslaught. The first text said: VIDEOS!!

Oh shit it *is* a sex tape. Her heart leapt into her throat. 

CHECK INSTAGRAM. NOW.!!!!!!!!!!

THE BOYS. WATCH THEIR STORIES. ASAP!

WHERE ARE YOU?! GET BACK TO ME

I DID NOT PLAN FOR THIS!!!!!!!!!

And then a few more that quickly delved into a full blown Nicole style panic attack. What the fuck had happened? She was sure she wouldn’t be needed in Toronto this weekend. She was told everything would be fine. Everything would be handled. That she could go off and handle her other clients Press day without a single worry about you know who one and you know who two being in the same place at the same time.

Evelyn: Ok calm down. Breathe. I’m checking it now

Evelyn swiped over to the Instagram app in the left hand corner and went straight to Armie’s page first. She didn’t need to be told who Nicole was freaking out over, “the boys” had been their code name for Armie and Timmy since the beginning. Not their most clever work, granted, but it was straight to the point. 

Armie’s circular icon had a red ring around it and with a feeling of immense trepidation, she pressed it and felt all the air leave her lungs in a quick rush at the sound of cheesy (porn?) music and a pink screen overlay flooded with hearts. 

It went by all too quickly at first, and for a moment she’d thought Nicole had lost her god damn mind, but when she played it again, and a certain unmistakable figure came into view, sitting at a table and giving a thumbs up, her only reaction was a strangled “what the fuck!!” that surely permeated the thin walls of the hotel. 

Her hand shaking, she found Timmy’s matching red circle and hit it without hesitation. It was grainy but, was that? That song. Yes, yes it was. Fuck. She knew that song and most importantly she knew what it meant. And was that….walking…..towards….oh shit…..it was. 

Having a bit of pity for her neighbors, she flipped herself over roughly and screamed into a pillow, like any top level publicist would do, before calming herself enough to figure out where this fell on the whole potential scandal scale…

Seeing as how her two clients were secretly fucking, both were men, not out, and one was still married in the eyes of the public, even if he’d began amicable divorce preparations months ago, it could be very very bad.

But then again, it might not be. She might not need to intervene. Heteronormativity was a hell of a drug (her fellow publicists had relied on the whole “bromance” bullshit to save careers and hide sexualities too many times to count) and it all depended on what else had gone down tonight. 

Evelyn: Ok I saw them. Was that it? Has anything else happened?

Nicole: No not that I know of. Just that. They managed to stick to the plan the entire night—they didn’t leave or arrive anywhere together. No professional photos. But then they do this!!!! I’m just terrified they are going to do something worse. This is a direct violation of THE PLAN!!!!! The fans are losing their shit!!

Evelyn rolled her eyes. Those little shits. Too smart for their own good and freakishly right about so many things. When did fans get so….savvy? Observant? Of course some were still dumb as bricks but, lord the stuff she read online was enough to send a shiver down every publicists spine. 

Evelyn: Ok look, if this is all there is, we do nothing. Text the boys to cut the crap, and let it ride. Don’t make them delete, that will just draw too much attention to it. Make them look guilty. People will assume they are joking. Pulling their chains.

Nicole: you sure? 

Evelyn: positive. Now please let me know when you get the boys iron clad agreements to stop fucking with my blood pressure and to never ever do that shit again, so I can finally get out of this bra and watch the rest of Making a Murderer on Netflix mmkay? 

Nicole: gotcha. Doing that now. 

After a few more minutes of scrolling through the fans reactions on twitter and Instagram, and even more minutes stress eating overpriced trail-mix out of the hotel minibar, her text alerts chimed. 

Armie: um sorry about that. Things got a little uhhh….it won’t happen again. We were just…well you know. Happy. It’s been six months Evey…SIX MONTHS. Six long months. Loooooooong months. 

Evelyn: just happy?

Armie: and high a little high lol

Evelyn: where is Timmy right now?

Armie: do you really wanna know the answer to that? 

Evelyn: as your friend, it’s none of my business, as your publicist…

Armie: he’s fine. Out like a light actually. Reeeeal tuckered out if you know what I mean..

Evelyn: Armie..

Armie: you know. From the sex

Evelyn: this conversation is not happening 

Armie: ;)

Evelyn: you’re still high aren’t you?

Armie: little bit. But mostly…high on love :) and weed….some really fucking good weed 

Evelyn: you’re determined to put me into an early grave aren’t you? Please just don’t post anything else, make sure you two separate first thing in the morning UNSEEN. Text Nicole when you wake up and she will help facilitate this. Promise me…

Armie: I promise 

Evelyn: good

Evelyn: oh and Armie..

Armie: yeah?

Evelyn: I’m happy you’re happy. Just so you know….

Armie: I know Evey. I know. And thank you.


	4. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So they've been a thing for a while now but it looks like they missed one important step. Pure schmoop.

“So….” Armie trails his fingertips lightly down the bare expanse of Timmy’s back, stopping only to pause at the juncture of where it slopes to meet his ass, and begins to draw lazy circles. “What are you doing this evening?”

Timmy huffs out into the dim room, the curtains pulled to block out some of the heat of the day. “Mmm nothing special. Might start on that script Brian sent over last week. Or binge watch something on Netflix.” The sheets rustle as he rearranges himself, his feet searching for Armie’s legs and burying them underneath. “Why? Thought we had the whole weekend together just to veg out and shit….did your night shoots get rescheduled?”

“Nah, I’m still free.”

“Good. Then why are you asking? Planning on ditching me?”

Armie snuggles closer, till Timmy is flush against his front and wraps his arms around his middle. His skin feels like a cool salve on Armie, whose body temperature always runs hot. 

“Never.” He teases, face buried in the crook of Timmy’s neck. Timmy shift in his arms. “I was just thinking…” Armie places a kiss on his neck. “…that maybe….” Another kiss. “….it would be a good idea….” Another kiss. “…for you and I…” Another kiss. “….to maybe…” Another kiss, followed by another as Armie trails down to his shoulder. “….go out….” Another kiss. “……since we’ve like….” Another kiss. “…you know….never done that before and ….”

Timmy jerks in Armie’s hold, making his next kiss miss his target, and Timmy flips himself over and just stares for a moment. His long leg snakes itself out from between Armie’s legs and is thrown over the outside of his hip. It hooks behind his thigh and curls inward, tight, pulling them closer and creating a pleasant friction down below where they are pressed together. 

“Armie are you….asking me out on a date?” A singular dark eyebrow raises and something mischievous flashes in his green eyes. 

Armie wants to kiss the smirk from his pretty pink lips. “Yes. Guilty as changed. I, Armie Hammer, want to take my incredibly hot boyfriend out for a romantic evening just like any normal couple, and I think it’s pretty fucked up that we’ve been together now for three months—“

Both of Timmy’s eyebrows raise at his blatant parroting of the PR line, one that was somewhat fudging with the whole timeline of things, but one they had agreed to stick with under threat of death or dismemberment. 

“For three months…” Armie continues with emphasis, giving him a knowing look that only makes Timmy burst into giggles. “And I would like to remedy that situation because I want to take you out. Because I couldn’t take you out publicly before, and now I can. And because you deserve it….and because I love you.”

Timmy blinks, eyes beginning to glisten at the corners, and his face is on the edge of crumbling. Armie can’t take crying Timmy, so he needs to get this out before they both become blubbering messes. 

“I made a reservation at that place you like with the….”

“Really amazing Mac and cheese with the truffle oil and the mushroom thingies?!”

Armie laughs, pulls him in closer and places a feather light kiss on the tip of his nose. “Yea, the one with the mushroom thingies.”

Timmy’s arms slide from where they’d been resting at Armie’s chest, and slither up his shoulders till he’s caressing both sides of Armie’s neck, a dreamy expression on his face. 

“Mmm so you wanna take me out..” His voice is breathy now and teasing. 

Armie laughs. “Desperately.”

“And you just assumed I would be free then?”

“Well I’d hoped so…”

“What if I say no?”

Armie fakes a wounded look for a moment before a devilish smile parts his lips. “Mmm I have a good feeling you won’t say no.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.” Armie raises his eyebrows before leaning in to kiss him on the mouth, but Timmy jerks back at the last second. Armie groans in frustration. 

“And why is that?”

“Well,” Armie leans in, nuzzling the side of his face gently, till his lips ghost past Timmy’s. He can feel gooseflesh erupt all over Timmy’s bare skin. “Word on the street is….” He pauses, a breath away from Timmy’s open, wanting mouth. He looks down to see Timmy’s eyelids flutter closed in anticipation. He wouldn’t be stopping this kiss. “…that I put out on the first date.”

Armie joins their mouths, tongues twirling as they both let out a guttural moans, and covers Timmy with his body, pressing him back into the mattress and tangling the sheets. 

They are late for their reservations.


	5. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armie, jealous? Pffffft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brought on by thinking about how many people will ship Timmy and Joel when The King comes out (and the fact the real King Hal allegedly had a thing with his own "Falstaff" and a fan rumor that this might be included in the film. Grain of salt on the fan rumor.)

“Did you watch that video I sent?” Timmy asks as he scurries about his hotel room, dumping an armful of sneakers into his suitcase. Even though promo week had been full of several appearances and screenings, he’d still massively overpacked, and fitting it all back into his luggage was turning out to be a hassle.

“The way Joel told off that lady was…wow. I mean she was totally out of line. Still though, I feel kind of bad. He was brutal.” Timmy laughs, remembering the moment in the Q&A when a rather uncouth audience member asked if they thought the gay scenes in The King were toeing the line a bit too far, or even downright necessary in the first place, and Joel had tore into her with a rant about representation in the media and hidden homophobia with enough quippy and well informed one liners to make the rest of audience go wild and the video quickly go viral. 

There is silence on the other line for a minute before a muffled and noncommittal “Mmm.” comes through. 

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yea. I watched it.” Armie sniffs, sounding distracted or something Timmy can’t quite name, and for a moment his skin prickles with irritation.

“Uh ok. And?”

“And what?”

“Armie!” Timmy is fully annoyed now. “I asked what you thought. Of what Joel said? I thought maybe you might have found it entertaining and oh I don’t know…..important and relevant to our lives?” Timmy pauses in his packing before shoving a pair of Chuck Taylors into his suitcase a bit too hard. “I mean you’re pretty woke and shit on every other topic but this elicits no response from you at all?” 

Timmy can practically hear Armies eyes rolling in their sockets. “It was fine! Ok? It was fine….what he said was….fine…..smart…..he was smart and……yeah.” There’s a pause and the sound of him moving around. “Why do you care what I think of it anyways? I mean clearly *you* liked it enough so….”

The way Armie says “you” and the way he trails off, not quite committing to giving any type of real opinion, makes it all click into place. The evasion, the clipped, flippant tone—this sounds like classic jealous Armie.  
“What exactly do you mean by ‘you’ clearly liked it? Of course I liked it. He defended the right for love between two men to be displayed onscreen. Why wouldn’t I like it?”

There’s a sigh and Timmy can hear the distant sounds of Harper singing and something that sounds like Ford’s motorized fire truck with the shrill, annoying sound effects. 

“You just…..really seem into him is all…..into it I mean. Into….” 

Yep, he’s right. Classic, jealous Armie.

Timmy is the one to roll his eyes now. “Hon, are you jealous? Seriously? Of Joel? Of-straight as a rod, wears khakis and listens to Journey- Joel?”

“You were, I don’t know….looking at him with those eyes…”

“Those eyes?”

“You know, those big as saucers puppy dog eyes that say ‘I think you hung the moon’ and all that shit.” Armie blows out a stream of breath straight into the receiver. “I know we’ve talked about this….that you don’t like when I’m a jealous brat but…”

“No, I cant say I love it when you’re a jealous brat…..but you’re my jealous brat and I love you so…” Timmy laughs. 

About once every six months Armie has a little jealous snit, mostly brought on by the deep rooted fear that Timmy will leave him (he’s young and too good for Armie in his mind) and that he’d imploded his old (safe) life for this to all end in disaster. Of course Armie has never said this outloud, but Timmy had read enough about psychology to read between the lines and offer his own amateur diagnosis. 

The fact they were currently in different parts of the country and hadn’t had more than two days together in the last two months certainly didn’t help matters either. 

“I’m sorry.” Armie says, quietly. Broken. His little snits never lasted long; usually enough time for his emotions to get worked up and then fizzle out. 

“I will forgive you this time. And the next time, and the next time aaaaaand the next time, until you realize that you’re an idiot and I’m not looking for something else and I’m not going anywhere, mmkay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” Timmy slams the top of his suitcase down and grimaces when he sees it bulge. He’s not even going to try to mess with the zipper—he’ll get the concierge to do it like last time. “And about those so called puppy dog eyes…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe I was looking at Joel that way…”

“Not helping Tim…”

Timmy laughs. “No, what I’m saying is that maybe I was looking at Joel that way, but it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with his words. Because they were inspiring. They meant a lot to me.”

“And this is supposed to make me not feel jealous how?”

“Cause, you big doofus, I look at you with those same eyes all the god damn time. Regardless of what dumb shit is coming out of your mouth…” Timmy giggles as Armie makes an affronted noise. “And that’s because of you. You inspire me. You mean a lot to me, not just your words, but your….everything. Joel might be able to take down a homophobe with an epic comeback, but can he somehow know exactly what I want for dinner without even asking? Can he always send me the dopest music recs? Can he talk with me about everything and nothing for hours at a time? Can he give me a foot rub that makes me moan? Can he do other things that make me moan? I think not…”

“He better not!”

“Armie!”

It’s Armies turn to giggle now, and it’s soft and warm in Timmys ear. “I miss you so much. I love you…”

“I love you too. “


	6. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all over. It was good. Amazing. So why does it hurt so bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Timmy saying how after the Oscars, when all the promo was done, how he stayed with his parents for a little bit. I always thought he must have been in a weird place to crash with them for a while. Warning--sad schmoop. May hit you with the FEELZ.

The moment he’d boarded the plane bound for New York it still didn’t feel real.

The moment the plane had begun its descent and he could make out the flames of lady liberty licking the sky, it still didn’t feel real.

The moment he’d stepped out on to the street and let the Uber driver lift his luggage into the trunk and ask “where to?” it still didn’t feel real. 

The moment he’d opened the front door to his parents place and dropped his duffel down with a thud, it still didn’t feel real.

But the moment he’d found himself on their couch, curled up under the quilt his grandma had made, with his mother gently combing her fingers through his hair and telling him how glad they all were to finally have him home again, it suddenly was all too real. 

It was over. All over. The past year—one that had challenged him, fulfilled him and profoundly changed him in a way he couldn’t even articulate—had reached its end. It would now exist only in memories, photographs, YouTube videos and magazine articles.

He knew it had to end, logically all things did, but somehow along the way he’d almost convinced himself that just like that magical summer in Crema, this time of promotion, this living in the ‘Call Me By Your Name’ whirlwind, would go on forever. Him and Luca. Him and Armie….always Armie. Long days and late nights spent together, reliving every moment of that summer through interview after interview. Screening after screening. Turbulence filled international flights where Armie teased him and speeches where Armie praised him. Private dinners where they talked until the place politely asked them to leave. Smoking joints in the alley before a Q&A. Snuggled up against Armie’s side while a million flashbulbs blinded them and photographers shouted their names. Dancing to Kanye and Cudi before a photo shoot. Hanging at his children’s birthday parties, swinging Harper around by her hands as she screeched and giggled. Sitting at his kitchen counter and not saying anything at all, both browsing phones in companionable silence. 

And then Austin…god Austin. The climax to it all. It had all been so real then. Armie watching him from the audience as he poured his heart out, his expression inscrutable, but so intense it had almost bowled him over. He’d wanted nothing more to cling to everything with all he had. Cling till his fingertips bled and never leave that place in time. Make it last forever, unchanged even, if it meant that they could always be together. 

Silly him. Crema didn’t last, and neither did this. It was never meant to. 

He should have learnt his lesson after the first time, when he’d come back from Italy, lost and drained and wondering who the fuck he was when he looked in the mirror and didn’t even recognize himself. He hadn’t learned though. He had only dug himself deeper into that hole, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of his head that had been whispering “don’t” all the time. 

As he curled himself further into the couch, wanting to sink between the cushions and disappear forever, his mom’s voice grew indistinct and sounded far away, as if he was underwater. It wasn’t until he felt a hand wipe across his cheek that he realized he’d been crying, and that his mom was looking at him with pain crinkled eyes. 

“Come here.” She said, not asking a reason for his tears, and pulled him into her arms. “It’s gonna be ok. It’s gonna be ok.” She said, softly, like a lullaby, and stroked his back.

Timmy leaned his head on her shoulder, resisting the urge to bury himself in her chest and sob. “I miss him so much already.” He revealed himself in one breath, not giving a damn what she might think. He suspected she’d known all along. She would have to be blind not to have noticed. 

“I know baby, I know.” She stroked his back and began to rock him gently. She didn’t need to say anything more. Nothing she could have offered would have fixed the crushing pain in his chest. 

“I love him.” He gasped, and he pressed his face closer into her. Her body heat only served to intensify the sweet musk of her perfume and he found the scent familiar. Comforting. 

“I know. I know.” Her hand stilled on his back and she pressed a firm kiss to the top of his curls. “Tell you what, why don’t you stay here for a little while, mmkay? I don’t think being alone right now is the best idea and frankly, I want to soak up as much time with you as I possibly can.”

Timmy looked up at her with tear swollen eyes. “I’d like that.”

“Good. Me too.” She kissed him again before taking both sides of his face in her hands and rubbing her thumbs back and forth gently, wiping any last trace of wetness from his splotchy cheeks.

“I know that I can’t fix this Tim, and I don’t have any real answers for you. Love is….complicated. And it hurts. Like hell. But I want you to know, that I have eyes ok? I have eyes and a mother’s intuition and I’m not trying to say this just to get your hopes up or anything but—-“

“Don’t. Please?” Timmy stopped her, face crumpling. He knew exactly what she was going to say, and even though every fiber of him was screaming out to hear her say it—to confirm that he wasn’t alone in these feelings—he couldn’t handle hearing it. Not right now. Not when the pain of leaving was still so raw and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. 

His mother nodded and said no more. With a parting look filled with motherly concern, she removed her hands from his face and let them fall to her side. 

“Ok. For now.”

“For now.” Timmy echoed, a small smile curling his lips. He twisted his hands in his lap, wanting to say so much, but having none of the energy. “But maybe later….in a few days we can…..talk about it?”

A matching smile filled her face. Soft. Reassuring. 

“Anything you want hon. Anything you want.” She stood up and leaned over, planting one last kiss to his head. “For whatever it’s worth, it is good to have you home.”

“It’s good to be home. It really is.” Timmy said, meaning every last word, even if it hurt.


	7. Never Let You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TIFF. The Hug. You know which one. If you don't then find someone who can tell you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to. I mean. Did you SEE that hug? DID YOU? Jesus. Hello fanfic world. Warning--oblique references to infidelity and complicated relationships.

The Soho Club is dark and crowded, people chatting in small groups, drinks in hand as the DJ plays mix of modern day and throwback hip hop that practically shakes the tables with bass. A gaggle of beautiful girls who look straight out of the pages of Vogue dance in the far corner in a tight circle, ignoring the various pairs of hungry eyes upon them, and Armie spots the salt and pepper head of Steve Carrell across the way, posing for pictures with a group of distinguished older men that he doesn’t recognize. Most likely TIFF organizers or some other big shots eager to hobknob at the hottest party in town, he really couldn’t give a shit.

None of these people are who he came to see.

Armie scans the room, giving his eyes a minute to adjust to the mood lighting, before he spots him, lounging in a booth at the far wall next to his friend Stephane, swaying back and forth to the music, eyes closed and an infectious smile stretching his delicate face to almost cartoonish proportions. If it was anyone else it would be obvious they were drunk, but with Timmy you could never be sure. Until he’d met the curly haired New Yorker he’d thought the phrase “high on life” was a joke. But it definitely was not, at least where Timmy was concerned.

Glancing over his shoulder at Liz he raises his eyebrows in a silent question, and her mouth purses as if to say “Go ahead, it’s not like I can stop you or anything”. She really can’t; he’d come here on a mission and despite the inherent awkwardness of the situation, his heart had been set on this moment since he’d first stepped off the plane and on to Canadian soil. They had seen each other four days ago in New York, but that already felt like a lifetime ago. After a spring and summer apart, a single night was not enough. There time together was never enough 

Before he can make his way over though a photog steps in their path and begins asking for pics. These parties are much more civilized than the craziness of a red carpet, and here they actually ask your permission. He knows Liz would want this, and despite how discreet he promised his publicist he would be, he knows pics with the wife would be fine, so he opens his arm and lets her slide in. She cuddles up to him, nuzzling him like they were God damn newlyweds or something, before the photog says “Good! Good” in broken English and wanders off.

Without a word they separate; Liz makes her way towards a table where Luke Davies, the movies screen writer, is sitting and she flashes him one of her mega watt smiles, fully aware that other camera men have noticed her and are interested in more pics, while Armie makes a beeline in the opposite direction. Out of the corner of his eye Armie sees another man with a camera approach when they notice where he’s headed, but he waves them off. This moment is not for public consumption.

Before he even has a chance to awkwardly yell his name above “I Can’t Feel My Face” by The Weeknd, (which has now set the room into a tizzy) Timmy looks up from his conversation with Stephane and spots him. The next moments seem to play out in slow motion: the surprise that morphs in to giddiness that coalesces into a blast of energy that propels Timmy up and over the banquet that divides the seating area from the dance floor, and straight into Armie.

Before Armie can process what’s happening, let alone get out a single word, he’s engulfed in 6 feet worth of warm, uncoordinated limbs that wrap around his neck and hold on for dear life. They are pressed chest to chest, and it’s a bit awkward seeing as how part of Timmy is actually still on the banquet, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

“Armieeeeee…” Timmy moans, causing gooseflesh to erupt all over Armie’s neck; Timmy’s breath is hot in his ear and his body totally pliant in his arms. Armie’s eyes slip shut against his will as he wraps his arms around Timmy’s back, fisting in the expensive material of his jacket, pulling him even closer.

“You’re here! I can’t believe you came!” 

Armie laughs into his hair. “Of course I came! Did you think I would miss your big premiere party Mr. Movie Star?” He knows that Timmy knows there are now…rules…but surely that would never stop him from something like this. 

Timmy doesn’t answer, just makes a sound that’s a cross between a sigh and another moan and ever so lightly presses his lips to the fleshy part behind Armie’s ear. Suddenly it’s all a bit too overwhelming—the music, too loud, the hug, gone on way too long, and the hundreds of pairs of eyes surely watching them, possibly documenting it all on their instagrams. 

Shit. His publicist is going to seriously kill him if this makes it out of this room. 

Armie pulls back, his hands loosening their death grip on Timmy’s jacket, and as he does he feels a pair of lips pass directly over the shell of his ear and say:

“Mmm I want you to fuck meeeeee.”

Logically he knows there is no way anyone else but him heard that, but he can’t help the way his body reacts, surging with a mix of nerves at being exposed, and an intense desire that coils tight in his lower belly. Sweat prickles under his collar, his heart rate spikes and cheeks flood with heat, and he says a silent prayer that the room is dark enough that no one can see the crumbling mess he’s become. 

“Tim…” He warns, stepping back until they are a respectable distance apart. A distance that says “just friends” and “costars and nothing more”. He flashes him a look that begs him to behave and Timmy clumsily slides all the way off the banquet, teetering a bit on his feet. His cheeks are just as flushed, his eyes glazed and lids heavy, and he’s positively vibrating with a lack of inhibitions. 

“Relax, no one heard that but you.” He smiles a Cheshire Cat-like grin and looks up at Armie with doe eyes that could bring the strongest man to his knees. Metaphorically and literally. He knows this from experience. “Only you…” Timmy says, a blissful look on his face, and moves in for another hug. 

Armie presses a soft but firm hand to his chest, halting him. “Tim. You’re drunk and people are watching. You know we can’t be too….you know….we promised…”

Something dark flashes then in Timmy’s soulful eyes, brief but unmistakable. Armie has seen happiness, lust, anger, jealousy and sadness color those eyes before, but this emotion is totally new. 

“Let them watch then. Let them talk.” He practically purrs. “Can’t you feel their eyes on us? They have been on us since you took me in your arms. Do you really care what they think? Nothing we do is going to change their minds about us, and I guarantee you every single one of them think that we’re fucking anyways, so why do you care?” His words are meant to provoke, and he’s smirks, confident that he will be rewarded for this, for his boldness, and it takes all of Armie’s restraint not to say “fuck it” and launch himself at Timmy’s lips.

But he can’t. Certainly not now. Maybe never, and the reality of the complicated situation they are in ultimately stops him from making a spectacle of himself and creating a a scandal ripe for the front page of TMZ. 

“I don’t care Timmy, you know I stopped giving a fuck a long time ago but we have to. You know that. Besides, Liz is here.”

Timmy visibly deflates at this, and for the first time he seems quite sober. There have been ground rules set for all of this, created after one too many discussions with their lawyers, agents and publicists, and were told quite sternly that if they were going to go down this path, that several things were non negotiable for the foreseeable future. So far it hadn’t been easy, and Armie often doubts the practicality if it all, but its necessary. 

“Oh,”

Armie sighs. The last thing he wanted to do to Timmy tonight was hurt him, but he had to remain in control. They both had to, no matter how much it was driving them mad. “Look, I know that you’re frustrated with all of this. I know that you hate the whole cloak and dagger shit, Evelyn’s laundry list of rules, the fact we were told we shouldn’t even take a fucking professional photo together but…..in the end, when this whole,” His hand flaps uselessly in the air, gesturing at nothing, not sure what he wants to say. “Whatever, is over….I promise it will be worth it.”

“I know. I know it will be.” Timmy smiles, looking down at his feet, suddenly shy, and gives Armie a glimpse of dark lashes fanned out against pristine cheekbones. He’s so breathtakingly beautiful that it literally hurts. He looks back up at Armie and it’s obvious that he’s doing the best he can to play along, to pretend that this doesn’t completely suck, but some of the light is gone from his eyes and he curls a bit into himself, wrapping his arms around his middle protectively. 

Armie hates this. He hates it so much. 

“But I will be here tomorrow, and Liz is leaving…”

Timmy brightens slightly. “Oh?”

“Yeah, business stuff.”

There’s a genuine smile on Timmy’s face now, and Armie is struck with how young he looks when he’s happy. 

“And we will have plenty of time together. Plenty. We can go to some of the events here together….well when I say together….” Armie shrugs as if to convey the unwritten rules of their arrangement and Timmy just nods along. “But tomorrow we will seriously have all night together and—“

“All night together?” Timmy smirks, his angelic face transforming into fluttering lashes and bedroom eyes in a matter of seconds. The tip of his tongue pokes out to wet his lips and he almost looks….cocky. Too cocky. Shades of that skinny kid from Hell’s Kitchen who rapped about statistics peek out from under the surface. 

Armie wants to kiss him so bad. He’s pretty sure the feeling is mutual. 

“Yep. Alllll night together.” Armie repeats, his voice rough, dripping with innuendo. 

————

The next night the boys have a blast attending several parties together—making sure not to be seen coming or going together, and dutifully avoiding all professional photo ops—and all goes swimmingly until they share some amazing weed out in the alley way between two venues and end up posting two very questionable, hormone fueled Instagram stories. 

Yeah. His publicist is definitely going to kill them. 

But he will deal with that later, Armie thinks, as he presses Tim into the hotel mattress and peppers his pale torso with kisses. 

Much, much, later.


	8. Tie Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting dressed...but sexier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the rumor going around that the shirt Timmy wore to the 2018 Hollywood Film Awards was backless, held together only by ribbons. Not sure if they found out that was legit or not but we all know how much Armie likes tying things lol

Armie is a bit early to Timmy’s hotel room and doesn’t bother to knock as he barges in. There’s not much he hasn’t seen by now, and Timmy could be in his boxer briefs or nothing really, and he wouldn’t bat an eye. Days filming love scenes in front of the camera will completely get rid of any type of awkwardness in that department. 

“Hey man, I’m here. You ready?” He asks an empty room. The Sunset Towers is where Timmy usually stays when he is in town; it had become his go to crash pad when things at the Hammer house had gotten…complicated….and it had no longer been the best place for him to stay at. The manager of the place always hooks him up with the penthouse suite, completely enamored with him, like pretty much everyone else. The room is gigantic, and looks even more so with nothing but one of Timmy’s small carry ons and it’s meager contents spilled across the bed. 

“Yea, I’m…..give me a moment….” Timmy’s voice is muffled from behind the bathroom door which isn’t closed all the way. “I’m just getting dressed…”

Armie rolls his eyes; there was no need to be shy. Besides, he knows how long it takes “Mr. Best Dressed” to get a move on if someone isn’t constantly prodding him, and he is anxious enough about tonight without having to deal with being late. 

He’s also a bit itchy and hot as balls in the god awful turtleneck he’d promised his stylist he would wear (“they were so nice to send this over Armie…”) and lets his irritation take control. Before he can rethink it he barges forward in typical Armie Hammer fashion, sending the bathroom door banging into the wall behind it.

“Come on man I—“ his words die on his tongue as he’s met with a wall of creamy, porcelain skin framed by nothing but several silk ribbons dangling uselessly around it. 

Or rather, Timmy’s back as he stands barefoot on the plush bath mat, in nothing but black dress pants and clutching something sparkly to the front of him. Is that…..sequins?

Suddenly the rather spacious hotel bathroom feels hot and confining. As confining as his silly turtleneck. 

Two green eyes blink owlishly back at him as Timmy looks over his shoulder. “I guess I didn’t think this through.” He says softly, and his cheeks start to flush. “Could you do me………up?” 

Armie isn’t sure if he hears flirtation in the simple question or if he’s reading too much into the situation. As long as they’ve known each other, and as much as they’ve walked that dangerous line between friends and something more, he’s never quite sure with Timmy: whether it is true naïveté or little Timmy T coming out to play. 

Surely though Timmy knows how the whole tying people up shit affects him? Then again he did try to get dressed by himself. But…..that pause after “do me”…..what the fuck man? Is this some sort of game? A seduction? Nothing at all? 

Armie feels his blood pressure rising and just knows his face is as red a fucking tomato. The only saving grace is that he doesn’t have to look Timmy in the eyes for this.

“Uh sure….man.” He coughs out awkwardly, trying the best he can to diffuse the tension that’s now filled the air. The same tension that’s always there—simmering and crackling under the surface—but this is a whole other level. This is touching on a very specific kink that Armie has only mentioned to Timmy once or twice. Acting it out is….well. 

Shit.

“Thanks.” Timmy whispers and his voice is like melted honey. Deeper and….rough. Is honey rough? Who the fuck knows, he hates honey. That little shit knows exactly what he’s doing doesn’t he? Armie knows his thoughts aren’t making any sense, and he takes a deep, calming breath to still his trembling fingers as he steps forward and picks up a silky ribbon.

Armie has never, ever had this reaction before. In the past, if anyone had ever asked him to be tied up, it was like a switch flipped in his brain, and he was 100% in control. This was only a fucking—what was it? Some sort of backless shirt?—and he was a mess. 

“So, what is this exactly?” Armie asks conversationally, trying his best to keep the mood light, but he’s painfully aware of every moment as his hands pull two ribbons together and begin to tie them tightly. He knows he’s standing too close, he can see the baby hairs at the back of Timmy’s neck rustle as he exhales, but he can’t bring himself to step back.

“Oh its a bib. I think that’s what they call it? Virgil sent it over and I thought it was really really cool and different but….well….” He trails off, shivering as Armie brushes his skin while reaching for another ribbon.

“It’s definitely interesting.” Armie loops two more together and pulls it tight, perhaps a bit tighter than necessary, and Timmy reacts with a mini jump. “How exactly were you planning on getting this on again? I mean since you were alone…” He asks straight into his ear, and he can see the goosebumps explode across Timmy’s bare flesh.

Fuck, Armie so fucking turned on right now it’s insane. 

There is a somewhat lengthy pause before Timmy says “I knew you were coming.” And it’s dripping with innuendo. And it’s dripping with innuendo, not even pretending to be an innocent remark, and Armie feels all the blood that had currently been residing in his face travel south. 

Fuuuuuuck. Get it together Armand.

While he thinks of something to say, something that both opens the door to this new—whatever it is—but also doesn’t totally freak the poor kid out, he gently trails his fingertip over his back. Does he want this? Truly? With Timmy? He knows he would be lying to himself if he’d said no. He knows he’s been attracted to Timmy since day one and how by the second week he’d already been aching to mark those delicate, pale wrists with rope burns. 

And now, after all this time, it’s so much more than just sexual attraction. So much more. 

“Say something….please?” Timmy croaks out, and he begins to nervously hunch his shoulders, probably terrified he’d made a horrible mistake. 

In response Armie grabs two more ribbons and uses them to pull Timmy until his back is completely flush with his chest. Not exactly great for finishing the job, but he can’t help himself. 

“So what you’re saying to me is,” Armie lowers his voice a good octave and speaks directly into Timmy’s ear. He has it on good authority what this does to people, and by the way Timmy fucking shivers in his grasp, he knows he’s hit the mark. “Is that you like the idea of being tied up……in shirts?” 

Timmy nods silently before his head falls forward and his whole body slackens, releasing all his nervous tension. 

He’s suddenly completely pliant in Armie’s arms, and he keeps his tight hold on the silky ribbons so Timmy doesn’t fall away. “Would you like to try being tied up in other things as well?”

Timmy leans back into him, rests his head on Armie’s chest and tilts his chin up so the entirety of his neck is on display and Armie can make out his elegant profile. His long, dark lashes flutter for a moment before the corner of his lips quirk upwards. 

“Yea. I would like that very much.”

Armie closes his eyes at this, taking a long moment to process this, but squeezes his shoulders so Timmy doesn’t mistake his silence for rejection. “Mmmm,” he finally responds, and places a tender kiss to Timmy’s throat, right at his pulse point. “That can be arranged. Now let’s finish this for a start…”

Armie gently pushes Timmy off him and finishes tying up the ribbons, willing his burgeoning erection down with every perfect bow. He cannot believe this is happening….

He also can’t believe he still has to go to a fucking awards show in a few minutes and pretend like it didn’t. Jesus Christ.


	9. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure. Holiday. Schmoop.

“What are we doing?” Armie whispers, not sure why he’s doing so, as Timmy pulls him by the hand. His question is only met with a giggle, the type Armie recognizes as the kind that comes from Timmy when he thinks he’s done something really clever, like make a reservation for a hard to get into restaurant that Armie has wanted to try forever, or the time he surprised him with a sex swing smack dab in the middle of their living room. 

There has been a lot of adventures since they had gotten together, and even more since they’d moved in together a year ago, shacking up in a cozy two bedroom apartment in midtown, and Armie couldn’t say the excitement was lacking between them, but as two people with highly busy schedules and a tendency to lose themselves in their roles, the last few months had seen a cooling off period on the whole “let’s dance naked on the roof at midnight” part of their relationship. But Timmy had just wrapped the Dune sequel and Armie was into the hiatus on his HBO show, and the bone deep exhaustion that had plagued them for months was slowly ebbing away, replaced by a renewed sense of playfulness that came with the freedom of actually getting to be together again. That’s why Armie wasn’t very surprised when Timmy snatched him off the couch after 1 AM on a Friday night (where he hadn’t been dozing off with a book in his hands like an old man thankyouverymuch) thrust a coat into his arms and pulled him down the stairs and outside to a waiting car, placing a blindfold on him and telling him “ssssssh just wait I have a surprise…” when Armie had raised a noise of protest. 

This was hardly the strangest thing that had happened between them, so he had silently nodded and leaned back into the leather seats, holding Timmy’s hand in his. If Timmy wanted to surprise him, then he wasn’t going to raise a fuss, and after a brief car ride and a very awkward and very dark walk to somewhere, with Timmy guiding the way, the blindfold was removed but he still had no idea where they were. 

It looks like some sort of….very wide….maintenance tunnel? It was cold and damp wherever they were, and Armie can make out buckets and tools and other various things in the dim light leading their way. 

“It’s fucking freezing.” Armie shudders and Timmy turns around and smiles, his eyes crinkling into tiny slits. 

“It will be worth the cold I promise you.”

There’s a door a few steps ahead of them but before they reach it, Armie spots something quite large looming along the far end of the tunnel and blinks several times. Where the hell are they? 

“Is that….is that a zamboni?” Armie asks and Timmy answers by pulling him like a gust of wind straight through the door. The bitter cold night air slams into his face like a brick wall and he stops in his tracks as he’s met with the sight of the Rockefeller Center skating rink, absolutely empty, the ice pristine and gleaming in the quiet around them.

“What the fuck??!” Armie laughs, squeezing Timmy’s hand. This was absolute madness. In all his time traveling to and living in New York City he’s never actually made it to the Rockefeller Center Skating rink, even though he’d always wanted to go, and even though he’d been to the Plaza several times to film various things. He had just never found the time, among other reasons, and now here he was, at two in the morning, standing utterly dumbstruck in the glow of the giant Christmas tree. 

“Are we trespassing?! What the fuck Chalamet?!?”

Timmy head butts into his shoulder as he laughs, rapid fire and endearingly awkward, and it echoes across the empty rink. “No, no. This is all legit. No laws being broken I swear.”

“But how—“

“A friend owes me a favor.”

“A friend?”

“A friend. Yea, long story but uh, I went to high school with the brother of the head maintenance guy here. We got an hour.” Timmy winks and jerks his head over to where a pair of ice skates are lined up side by side on a bench. 

Armie’s heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest like an alien in a horror movie, which isn’t the most romantic description, but he’s never felt the love he feels for this man so acutely as he does in this moment. It takes all his might not to let the tears flow. 

“You remembered.” He squeezes Timmy’s hand and pulls him close. 

“Yeah,” Timmy ducks his head down bashfully, the way he used to when they first met and someone gushed over his acting, and the way he still does anytime someone compliments him. Armie loves the fact that this man who has everything in the world has never lost that humility. “I remember everything you say.” 

It’s so painfully honest, so lacking in pretense, Armie feels the tears prick in the corner of his eyes. What the fuck did he do to deserve this man? 

“I don’t know what to say. This is absolutely amazing. Thank you.” Armie says, kissing the top of Timmy’s curls as the younger man folds himself into Armie’s body, the two wrapping around each other tightly. “I love you so much.”

Armie thinks back to that afternoon months ago, the day before Timmy was set to fly off to Budapest to start on Dune, when they had spent the entire day making love and watching movies while cuddled up on the couch and eating Chinese food. The movie Serendipity with John Cusak and Kate Beckinsale had come on, some mediocre holiday romcom neither of them had seen before, and when the two leads had a romantic scene skating at Rockefeller Center, it had prompted Armie to remark how he’d always wanted to ice skate there, maybe take Timmy there some day, even though it wouldn’t be half as romantic seeing as how the place would be swarming with tourists, all of them gawking at the big Hollywood Stars. 

It was nothing but a little throwaway fantasy, something he never thought would happen and therefore didn’t put much thought into, but Timmy had remembered that seemingly inconsequential tidbit and turned it into reality. 

“I love you too.” Timmy breaths, hot into the crook of his neck, before placing a tiny pop of a kiss there and springing backwards. “And as much as I would love to stand here and make out with you, we now only have fifty minutes so chop chop and show me your double axel hot stuff.” 

Armie reluctantly lets him go and they put on their skates, take a few wobbly steps on to the ice and begin to leisurely skate circles around the rink, hand in hand. It’s cold as hell, they are both a bit underdressed (“Ok so maybe I was a little too excited to check and see just how cold it was gonna be.” Timmy apologizes sheepishly) and it starts to lightly sprinkle down snow flurries a few minutes later, but they don’t care. Despite their reddened cheeks and the falling temperature, the moment is perfect. 

After a few laps Armie tries to do a spin that ends with his ass meeting the ice in a loud crack, and it makes Timmy laugh so hard that he begins to wobble and soon crashes down on top of him. 

“Guys as big as me probably shouldn’t be attempting any fancy moves.”

Timmy buries his head into Armies chest, laughing hysterically. “Probably not.”

“Probably shouldn’t even be on blades anyways.” Armie snorts.

“Probably not.” Timmy agrees, his face scrunched up in that adorable childlike way. “But I gotta admit, it’s pretty sexy.” He smiles and leans down to kiss Armie, and their cold lips slide against each other slowly for a moment, but before Timmy can deepen the kiss, Armie pulls back.

“Timmy…”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks again…this was amazing….”

“You’re welcome…” Timmy replies, breathless, and dips his head down to continue kissing him, but Armie gently pushes him back. Timmy makes a frustrated grunt. 

“And I know we still have like twenty minutes left to skate….”

“Yeah….” 

“But…..my ass is numb and I can’t feel my fingers.”

Timmy’s bark of laughter reverberates around them. “Same. Home?”

“Home.” Armie parrots, pulling Timmy down into one more kiss as the snow flurries pick up speed. The cold was worth it, definitely worth it.


End file.
